Sven paid the taxi driver as soon as the taxi parked outside the club. Stepping out onto the pavement the Swede took it all in as he entered the club and smiled at what he saw. Yep. This was similar to the clubs back home in Sweden but more....trashy? The American dream as they say.
"On the edge of the stage he said---"
The singer whispering under his breath as he passed a few hot near naked boys flirting with one another close by the poles themselves. Fuck, was everyone near smashed and making out? It would seem so. The singer felt at home almost in the trashy environment, stepping up to the edge of the stage and immediately spotting Mikkel. Fuck, he was tall! Also, young. Very young. Too young.
"Fuck! Mikkel! You are so young! I did not realise you were but a boy. But your legs---they are so fucking long."
"I'm not a boy." His voice was quiet and clipped. He didn't need to lose his job for someone he didn't know. "Don't you start with the shit about my age like everyone else. I've been doing this for years."
The brattiness was coming out full force at the singer. "I'm more than old enough to have a hot guy drink whiskey off of me on stage."
Well there was a fantasy he could check odd his escapade list if Sven agreed
"Alright. You don't need to prove anything to me, honung. I just didn't expect you to be this young is all."
How long had Mikkel said he'd been dancing? For years? But how old was he? 18? 19? Fuck. That meant he'd been starting at a young age---too young. That part sat in the singer's mind for a moment but he shrugged it off since it really wasn't any of his business. He was tired and drunk and wanted some fun.
"Ok, then let's have at it. Whiskey on you on stage. The plane journey was pretty shit so now I could do with having some fun."
"I didn't mean my age, exactly." Mikkel sighed at all these rockstars that didn't seem to get his profession at all. "I'm not a boy, not a guy."
He rolled his eyes wondering just how drunk Sven was but then smirked and hopped up on the stage while grabbing the bottles behind him. There were a few of the other girls watching, whispering and giggling. Mikkel had told them he had invited a hot rockstar for onstage body shots.
He couldn't help but giggle as he leaned back against the pole, swaying slightly while offering one of the bottles to Sven. Thankfully, he had also cleared this with his boss or there would be hell for touching the girls.
"I'm dying to see this booze pouring fantasy you were denied at the last shit hole."
Sven knew what the kid meant. No boys were allowed to swing around the pole, of course they weren't. Back in Sweden there were hardly any boys on poles and the same was probably over here in LA but as for Mikkel's age? His dancing career was probably less than legal.
"Alright, sweets. Sorry for the confusion there because I like dancers with long legs and yours? They are fucking smoking hot."
A playful wink and the Swede was admiring the way Mikkel swayed and moved around the pole. Clearly, the boy had skill and it showed. Sven popped open the bottle's lid and began pouring some of the booze over the Dane. Laughing, the Swede couldn't help but wonder if this was a fantasy come true or not.
Mikkel winked right back at the Swede, flirting because he did adore attention. Sven didn't come across as dangerous so the attention was openly welcomed. "I could wrap them around the pole for you."
He was soon laughing though under the cascade of whiskey, making sure to keep his eyes closed or averted from the splashing. He leaned away from the pole and pressed his now whiskey covered lips to Sven's, playfully. A tease for the Swede as much as for the crowd that had started to come watch.
"Whatever you want to do for me, honung. You're the flashy dancer here."
Flashy hot dancer. Did the boy even have a partner? Who knew and who cared? The Swede was wanting a good time and this is what he came to the club for. The boy seemed happy enough to entertain so he would just go with the flow and loved all the attention now thrust upon him as the crowd started to show.
"You teasing bitch."
Sven couldn't help it as he laughed while pouring more booze onto Mikkel, loving how riled the crowd was getting as his boring flight now forgotten. The kiss just fuelling the trashy singer to become more wild and unpredictable. The kid was hot and this was fun!
"You'd probably prefer them around your waist." Mikkel accuses but he's laughing. It may well be part of the show that he is putting on.
"It's my job to be a teasing bitch." He giggled into that hot kiss, slipping away around the pole, coyly holding on to the pole while grinning at the Swede standing on the opposite side. Now it was definitely going to get fun.
"You're also a cocky little bitch too. I love it."
Sven was minding his words regarding the whole boy issue since a crowd was now being pulled in behind him and he'd have to watch his mouth. Mikkel might be a boy to the Swede but to everyone else in the club he was a boyish girl. The whole show though? Sven was loving it as he took a gulp of booze from the bottle in his hand and then pulled out some notes, stuffing them into Mikkel's pants. Shit, were they Swedish currency? Ah well. Money was money, right? The kid could change them up somewhere in this massive city couldn't he? Sven had just jumped off the plane and had no dollars on him.
Mikkel was getting sassy with the Swede, egging him on for show. The Dane pressed his hips into Sven's fingers as he slipped those bills into the waist of his shorts.
"You better pay for it." Mikkel teased while wagging a finger at the singer. Then he hopped up on the pole, legs wrapped tightly around it and his hips rolling lewdly. He let go with his hands and leaned around the one side to offer the Swede a beckoning finger, encouraging him to come closer.
Would Sven pay for Mikkel's lavish dance? Of course he would. The Swede might be trashy but he respected a man when he was doing his job and had to make a living. Bringing out some more notes he stuffed a few more into Mikkel's pants then tipped more booze on the flashy dancer.
"You have fucking hot legs, sweets! I'm guessing lots of people have told you that already."
Sven laughed at Mikkel's display when he wrapped his legs around the pole. The wagging finger just got the singer to come closer wondering where the fun would go to next as he swallowed some more booze down.
Mikkel was glad for the tips and the lack of grabbiness, though Sven he might let though.
"Everyone likes my legs." Mikkel giggled as Sven got closer. Once within reach, Mikkel came around the pole, still holding tight with his legs, and leaned back to put his head on Sven's shoulder. Grinning, the boy got his hands in Sven's hair to ruffle it a little above the ears before stealing the scarf out of it. He's being flirtatious and playful, humping the pole even in this precarious position.
"I guess a lot of people tell you you're hot too." He winked at Sven, teasing just a little.
Sven knew how this game worked and grabbiness would not be tolerated, not when it was out in the open like this. Others were watching and then there were the other girls; the dancers who would likely keep an eye out on young Mikkel, seeing him as one of their own no doubt. Another girl.
"I bet they fucking do. Do you get lots of compliments, sweets? I want to touch them. Am I allowed?"
The trashy Swede then poured some more booze onto Mikkel's legs laughing as he did so. This was much more fun than sitting on a boring plane for fuck knows how long. How long was it even? He was too trashed to know.
"My scarf! You naughty bitch."
Sven knew the boy was flirting and was loving the show. It was what he wanted right now because the Swede wanted fun and exploring LA like this was perfect.
"Oh, so you want me to buy you drinks too? You spoiled tart."
Sven loved every part of this dance and Mikkel was a fun loving kind of guy from the outset. The Swede now wanting to spend more time at the club if the Dane was going to be here dancing and showing his legs off. Tiredness was still creeping into Sven's body but he shook it off because he was going to get smashed anyway.
"Yeah, I am. Do you have a problem with that, sweet cakes? You seem to like it."
The trashy singer swallowed more booze and allowed it to spill down his pink lips onto the floor as he then emptied the rest out onto Mikkel's legs and abdomen.
Mikkel started laughing and tugged at the bills sticking out of his shorts playfully. "So, you'll pay to look at my legs but won't buy a drink to touch them?"
He's flirting and starting shit with his bratty attitude but he can also see that Sven appears to like the playing around. When Sven started pouring again Mikkel ducked down to put his mouth under the stream of booze.
"Come on, yndling. Let's sit down." Mikkel gave Sven a quick and cheeky kiss on the bridge of his nose before walking away toward the stairs to get off the stage. Surely he'd follow though Mikkel is glad that one of the girls had brought him a towel to sop up some of the booze on himself.
"You're calling me yndling now? Am I your favourite already? We've only just met, sweets."
Sven thought this was amusing of course because he'd only just entered LA and this hot, cute Dane dancer was calling him sweet names already. Maybe it was part of his act of being a dancer, who knew. All that he did want was a drink because Sven had wasted an entire bottle of whiskey tipping it all over Mikkel. Sitting down the Swede stretched out his aching legs and knew he'd have to exercise to make sure he didn't get cramp in his calf muscles from sitting on a plane for too long. The singer took his fitness seriously and liked to work out keeping his body in top shape.
"Come on, sweetie. I'm waiting."
The singer winking at Mikkel, hoping more booze was coming along soon.
"Tror du, de svin har en chance for at blive min favorit for natten?"
Mikkel giggled but it was honest about the crowd. He'd much rather hang around with a Scandinavian musician than all these Americans. Mikkel left Sven briefly and came back with a bottle of vodka and a pair of shot glasses. He would drink too much because he had to get Rik's bike back to the hotel, but a couple wouldn't hurt.
"Now you're rushing?" Mikkel laughed and sat himself right in Sven's lap then pouted them both shots. Exercise might be something the two agreed on. Mikkel needed to stay strong to dance and make money.
Sven just giggled at Mikkel's words, offering up Danish back just because he could. No one else around knew what the two men were talking about which gave the singer an ego boost and no doubt the dancer's ego too. Unless there were other Danes inside the club which Sven doubted very much. Most accents were American.
"Vodka? Godt valg, knægt."
It was a good choice indeed since the Swede often liked to get trashed on vodka. That or whiskey. Any strong booze really since it all did the same job in getting someone wrecked. Feeling the dancer slide into his lap, Sven placed a hand on Mikkel's leg as he poured them both shots. This was a good start.
"Vodka is the best." If Mikkel was going to drink then this was his choice. He offered one of the glasses before shooting down his own glass.
"Hvis du tror, mit firma er særbehandling. Hvis jeg skal sidde på en omgang, så bliver det den lækreste mand på stedet." Mikkel winked while flirting with Sven. It was harmless and playful.
"Vodka is best, sweets. You got that right. I often end up trashed just downing the whole bottle before realising I'm too drunk to fucking walk. It's always fun though. Du er den hotteste dreng i denne lort bunke hidtil."
Sven meant it because Mikkel had been drenched in booze and carried in dancing. A professional even at such a young age. The Swede drank some of his vodka and wondered if there were any other boys dancing at this place. Probably not. His secret was safe with the singer.
"Jeg er den eneste dreng her." Mikkel giggled and poured himself another shot. They were probably going to get trashed together at this rate with a whole bottle sitting on the table.
"Nej, men du er den første, der står op og danser med mig, skat." Mikkel gave Sven a quick peck on the cheek before downing another shot. He was soaked in booze and no Sven was going to be too. Oh well. That's what showers were for at the end of the night. "Har du mange strippere i dit skød?"
Mikkel is glad to be speaking Danish. It's a relief because he hadn't seen any other Danes here, besides Ansgar and Torden stopping by once. They wouldn't say anything to out him though so the language was safer.
"Jeg har været på et par stripklubber, men du er den første danske dreng, jeg har haft i mit skød før."
This was the truth since Sven had mostly had Swedish pretty boys in his lap before with some being Norwegian but never Danish. Mikkel was the first and what a first he was too. The kid was sexy; long legs, cheeky smile and that hair. Sven just wanted to spend more time with the boy even if it wasn't for any sexual reasons.
"Vil du smadres med mig, skat? Min bror venter tilbage på hotellet for mig."
Ulrik probably wondered where his brother had gotten to since he was supposed to have jumped into a taxi back at the airport and driven straight to the hotel. Oops. The older Sweden wanted to see the city and soak up some of the nightlife first. Why the fuck not? The plane ride from Swede was boring as fuck.
"Jeg er lidt jetlagged, men jeg skal være ok. Lad os drikke, søde sager."
""Du er den første blonde svensker, jeg har fået tilbudt mig en omgang."
Mikkel is definitely flirting but it isn't too serious since they've just met. However, Sven is cute enough that he gets a kiss on the cheek before Mikkel starts filling his shot glass back up.
"Vi kan drikke på hotellet, hvis du vil, i stedet for her." Mikkel knew Rik worried when he didn't come back on time so it felt right to offer. Plus, the booze would be free at the hotel. Well it would just go on the tour tab but whatever.
"Jeg kan ikke få for mange, hvis jeg kører tilbage. Rik vil flå mig, hvis jeg styrter på hans motorcykel."
"Vi kan tage tilbage til hotellet nu, hvis du vil, slik."
Sven was happy to go back to the hotel because no doubt his brother would be looking for him right now wondering where he had gotten to after departing off the plane. The trashy Swede just enjoying Mikkel's company in the strip club. But then if the boy had a bike then he shouldn't drink too much anyway.
"Du må hellere lade være med at smadre hans cykel. Hvad med at du kører tilbage med mig, og vi kan blive smadret på hotellet? Min bror venter på mig."
Ulrik probably trying to phone Sven or at least get in contact somehow. The singer sliding a hand along Mikkel's leg playfully whilst drinking large gulps of vodka. If they were about to leave then he would finish up his drink first.
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"On the edge of the stage he said---"
The singer whispering under his breath as he passed a few hot near naked boys flirting with one another close by the poles themselves. Fuck, was everyone near smashed and making out? It would seem so. The singer felt at home almost in the trashy environment, stepping up to the edge of the stage and immediately spotting Mikkel. Fuck, he was tall! Also, young. Very young. Too young.
"Fuck! Mikkel! You are so young! I did not realise you were but a boy. But your legs---they are so fucking long."
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The brattiness was coming out full force at the singer. "I'm more than old enough to have a hot guy drink whiskey off of me on stage."
Well there was a fantasy he could check odd his escapade list if Sven agreed
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How long had Mikkel said he'd been dancing? For years? But how old was he? 18? 19? Fuck. That meant he'd been starting at a young age---too young. That part sat in the singer's mind for a moment but he shrugged it off since it really wasn't any of his business. He was tired and drunk and wanted some fun.
"Ok, then let's have at it. Whiskey on you on stage. The plane journey was pretty shit so now I could do with having some fun."
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He rolled his eyes wondering just how drunk Sven was but then smirked and hopped up on the stage while grabbing the bottles behind him. There were a few of the other girls watching, whispering and giggling. Mikkel had told them he had invited a hot rockstar for onstage body shots.
He couldn't help but giggle as he leaned back against the pole, swaying slightly while offering one of the bottles to Sven. Thankfully, he had also cleared this with his boss or there would be hell for touching the girls.
"I'm dying to see this booze pouring fantasy you were denied at the last shit hole."
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"Alright, sweets. Sorry for the confusion there because I like dancers with long legs and yours? They are fucking smoking hot."
A playful wink and the Swede was admiring the way Mikkel swayed and moved around the pole. Clearly, the boy had skill and it showed. Sven popped open the bottle's lid and began pouring some of the booze over the Dane. Laughing, the Swede couldn't help but wonder if this was a fantasy come true or not.
"Fuck yeah it's a fantasy!"
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He was soon laughing though under the cascade of whiskey, making sure to keep his eyes closed or averted from the splashing. He leaned away from the pole and pressed his now whiskey covered lips to Sven's, playfully. A tease for the Swede as much as for the crowd that had started to come watch.
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Flashy hot dancer. Did the boy even have a partner? Who knew and who cared? The Swede was wanting a good time and this is what he came to the club for. The boy seemed happy enough to entertain so he would just go with the flow and loved all the attention now thrust upon him as the crowd started to show.
"You teasing bitch."
Sven couldn't help it as he laughed while pouring more booze onto Mikkel, loving how riled the crowd was getting as his boring flight now forgotten. The kiss just fuelling the trashy singer to become more wild and unpredictable. The kid was hot and this was fun!
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"It's my job to be a teasing bitch." He giggled into that hot kiss, slipping away around the pole, coyly holding on to the pole while grinning at the Swede standing on the opposite side. Now it was definitely going to get fun.
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Sven was minding his words regarding the whole boy issue since a crowd was now being pulled in behind him and he'd have to watch his mouth. Mikkel might be a boy to the Swede but to everyone else in the club he was a boyish girl. The whole show though? Sven was loving it as he took a gulp of booze from the bottle in his hand and then pulled out some notes, stuffing them into Mikkel's pants. Shit, were they Swedish currency? Ah well. Money was money, right? The kid could change them up somewhere in this massive city couldn't he? Sven had just jumped off the plane and had no dollars on him.
"Give me a good fucking dance, Mikkel."
A wink and Sven was watching.
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Mikkel was getting sassy with the Swede, egging him on for show. The Dane pressed his hips into Sven's fingers as he slipped those bills into the waist of his shorts.
"You better pay for it." Mikkel teased while wagging a finger at the singer. Then he hopped up on the pole, legs wrapped tightly around it and his hips rolling lewdly. He let go with his hands and leaned around the one side to offer the Swede a beckoning finger, encouraging him to come closer.
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"You have fucking hot legs, sweets! I'm guessing lots of people have told you that already."
Sven laughed at Mikkel's display when he wrapped his legs around the pole. The wagging finger just got the singer to come closer wondering where the fun would go to next as he swallowed some more booze down.
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"Everyone likes my legs." Mikkel giggled as Sven got closer. Once within reach, Mikkel came around the pole, still holding tight with his legs, and leaned back to put his head on Sven's shoulder. Grinning, the boy got his hands in Sven's hair to ruffle it a little above the ears before stealing the scarf out of it. He's being flirtatious and playful, humping the pole even in this precarious position.
"I guess a lot of people tell you you're hot too." He winked at Sven, teasing just a little.
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"I bet they fucking do. Do you get lots of compliments, sweets? I want to touch them. Am I allowed?"
The trashy Swede then poured some more booze onto Mikkel's legs laughing as he did so. This was much more fun than sitting on a boring plane for fuck knows how long. How long was it even? He was too trashed to know.
"My scarf! You naughty bitch."
Sven knew the boy was flirting and was loving the show. It was what he wanted right now because the Swede wanted fun and exploring LA like this was perfect.
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Mikkel loved the attention from the right people and Sven was one of them that let him feel safe.
"You're the bastard pouring booze on me." Mikkel accused while laughing and wrapping the scarf around his neck as he slid off the pole.
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Sven loved every part of this dance and Mikkel was a fun loving kind of guy from the outset. The Swede now wanting to spend more time at the club if the Dane was going to be here dancing and showing his legs off. Tiredness was still creeping into Sven's body but he shook it off because he was going to get smashed anyway.
"Yeah, I am. Do you have a problem with that, sweet cakes? You seem to like it."
The trashy singer swallowed more booze and allowed it to spill down his pink lips onto the floor as he then emptied the rest out onto Mikkel's legs and abdomen.
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He's flirting and starting shit with his bratty attitude but he can also see that Sven appears to like the playing around. When Sven started pouring again Mikkel ducked down to put his mouth under the stream of booze.
"Come on, yndling. Let's sit down." Mikkel gave Sven a quick and cheeky kiss on the bridge of his nose before walking away toward the stairs to get off the stage. Surely he'd follow though Mikkel is glad that one of the girls had brought him a towel to sop up some of the booze on himself.
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Sven thought this was amusing of course because he'd only just entered LA and this hot, cute Dane dancer was calling him sweet names already. Maybe it was part of his act of being a dancer, who knew. All that he did want was a drink because Sven had wasted an entire bottle of whiskey tipping it all over Mikkel. Sitting down the Swede stretched out his aching legs and knew he'd have to exercise to make sure he didn't get cramp in his calf muscles from sitting on a plane for too long. The singer took his fitness seriously and liked to work out keeping his body in top shape.
"Come on, sweetie. I'm waiting."
The singer winking at Mikkel, hoping more booze was coming along soon.
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Mikkel giggled but it was honest about the crowd. He'd much rather hang around with a Scandinavian musician than all these Americans. Mikkel left Sven briefly and came back with a bottle of vodka and a pair of shot glasses. He would drink too much because he had to get Rik's bike back to the hotel, but a couple wouldn't hurt.
"Now you're rushing?" Mikkel laughed and sat himself right in Sven's lap then pouted them both shots. Exercise might be something the two agreed on. Mikkel needed to stay strong to dance and make money.
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Sven just giggled at Mikkel's words, offering up Danish back just because he could. No one else around knew what the two men were talking about which gave the singer an ego boost and no doubt the dancer's ego too. Unless there were other Danes inside the club which Sven doubted very much. Most accents were American.
"Vodka? Godt valg, knægt."
It was a good choice indeed since the Swede often liked to get trashed on vodka. That or whiskey. Any strong booze really since it all did the same job in getting someone wrecked. Feeling the dancer slide into his lap, Sven placed a hand on Mikkel's leg as he poured them both shots. This was a good start.
"Får jeg så særbehandling?"
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"Hvis du tror, mit firma er særbehandling. Hvis jeg skal sidde på en omgang, så bliver det den lækreste mand på stedet." Mikkel winked while flirting with Sven. It was harmless and playful.
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Sven meant it because Mikkel had been drenched in booze and carried in dancing. A professional even at such a young age. The Swede drank some of his vodka and wondered if there were any other boys dancing at this place. Probably not. His secret was safe with the singer.
"Am I the first rock star to have you in my lap?"
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"Nej, men du er den første, der står op og danser med mig, skat." Mikkel gave Sven a quick peck on the cheek before downing another shot. He was soaked in booze and no Sven was going to be too. Oh well. That's what showers were for at the end of the night. "Har du mange strippere i dit skød?"
Mikkel is glad to be speaking Danish. It's a relief because he hadn't seen any other Danes here, besides Ansgar and Torden stopping by once. They wouldn't say anything to out him though so the language was safer.
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This was the truth since Sven had mostly had Swedish pretty boys in his lap before with some being Norwegian but never Danish. Mikkel was the first and what a first he was too. The kid was sexy; long legs, cheeky smile and that hair. Sven just wanted to spend more time with the boy even if it wasn't for any sexual reasons.
"Vil du smadres med mig, skat? Min bror venter tilbage på hotellet for mig."
Ulrik probably wondered where his brother had gotten to since he was supposed to have jumped into a taxi back at the airport and driven straight to the hotel. Oops. The older Sweden wanted to see the city and soak up some of the nightlife first. Why the fuck not? The plane ride from Swede was boring as fuck.
"Jeg er lidt jetlagged, men jeg skal være ok. Lad os drikke, søde sager."
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Mikkel is definitely flirting but it isn't too serious since they've just met. However, Sven is cute enough that he gets a kiss on the cheek before Mikkel starts filling his shot glass back up.
"Vi kan drikke på hotellet, hvis du vil, i stedet for her." Mikkel knew Rik worried when he didn't come back on time so it felt right to offer. Plus, the booze would be free at the hotel. Well it would just go on the tour tab but whatever.
"Jeg kan ikke få for mange, hvis jeg kører tilbage. Rik vil flå mig, hvis jeg styrter på hans motorcykel."
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Sven was happy to go back to the hotel because no doubt his brother would be looking for him right now wondering where he had gotten to after departing off the plane. The trashy Swede just enjoying Mikkel's company in the strip club. But then if the boy had a bike then he shouldn't drink too much anyway.
"Du må hellere lade være med at smadre hans cykel. Hvad med at du kører tilbage med mig, og vi kan blive smadret på hotellet? Min bror venter på mig."
Ulrik probably trying to phone Sven or at least get in contact somehow. The singer sliding a hand along Mikkel's leg playfully whilst drinking large gulps of vodka. If they were about to leave then he would finish up his drink first.
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